


Ask Me Again

by Slaycinder



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Closure, DSOD, Final Goodbyes, Hey look Slay wrote something other than porn, Hurt/Comfort, Kaiba’s body may be disintegrating but his gay never will, M/M, Miasma Theory, My long-overdue contribution to the post-DSOD Prideshipping hellspiral, One-Shot, Pharaoh Atem - Freeform, Post-Canon, Prideshipping, Seto Kaiba - Freeform, because this one hurts, post-dsod, unless you count emotional BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 01:58:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16546631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slaycinder/pseuds/Slaycinder
Summary: There have been many ideas for what could happen after Kaiba arrives in the afterlife.This is mine.





	Ask Me Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheTransversalArtisan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTransversalArtisan/gifts).



> I spent...’months’ mulling over this idea, and while this fic is the final product, it is only a part of the story I constructed in my head. My lovely editor and I decided that this worked very well as a one-shot; but if I did expand on the idea, it would be in the form of a series/related works, so this fic could still stand on its own. I'd love to hear your guys' thoughts! If I do continue the story, it won't affect this one-shot. This one is done~.
> 
> ~For TTA, a rose among thorns, and my partner in Prideshipping crime~
> 
>  
> 
> [Support the Author with Ko-Fi!](ko-fi.com/loismb)
> 
>  
> 
> -Slay

“Come with me.”

The words were offered so tamely, murmured over the shoulder like an afterthought.

Atem’s heart stuttered. Not at the words—he might have seen them coming, even if only as a small, stray thing in his head—but at the tone of Kaiba’s voice. No fire, no fury, no passion sharpened to a manic edge. He’d never seen his rival act quite so...stormless, and he realized at once just how open the whole picture was, how honest. 

It figured, after all the opportunities he’d had over the years to be civil, all the brief respites between calamities and collisions when calm words could have been spoken, Kaiba waited until now to be sincere. Now, standing side by side, finally on the other end of their destined duel, on the bleeding edge of reality itself, on the precipice of eternity. Now that it was time….

_ Come with me. _

_ Where? _ he nearly asked.

_ Where do you think? _ Kaiba nearly replied.

The answer to that question perched on the edge of Atem’s mind like unwelcome company. He thought fondly (and often) of the living world, but there was a dangerous word hiding in his head. He wouldn’t think it. He certainly wouldn’t say it.

Kaiba was waiting patiently, head tucked to the side, obscured by ribbons of fizzling darkness.

The miasma was getting worse.

He stepped up to Kaiba’s side, the simmering sands of Aaru unraveling infinitely before them, cleaved by the cool gray Nile and wreathes of lush, fruit-bearing trees. Atem met his rival’s eye and smiled.

“I don’t belong there,” he said, reaching up to touch a vein of electric piping on Kaiba’s arm, its sharp blue glow nearly lost in shadow vapor. “Just like you don’t belong here.”

“Mn.” Kaiba grunted and looked away. It was a benign sound, a way of saying  _ fair enough. _

Atem withdrew his hand, the miasma leaving his skin crawling and numb, like a wave of nausea. He flexed his fingers. “This is getting dangerous,” he said firmly, watching the darkness seething in and around Kaiba’s body. It seemed to be truly consuming him now, erasing him inward from each extremity. “You know how to get back?”

“Obviously.”

_ Obviously. _ Atem chuckled, but it died swiftly in his throat. “Go then,” he said. “Before something irreversible happens.”

Everything stretched out then; the silence, the impending separation, even the immortal sands seemed to dig farther and farther under the horizon. The unstable magic tearing at Kaiba’s edges seemed to slow and stagnate, if only for a moment. 

Then the Cube was shining in Kaiba’s hand, awash with miasma and streaks of heat. Atem’s heart lurched at the sight of it. 

_ Come with me. _

“I’m glad you came,” he managed, averting his eyes.

Kaiba nodded, gazing somewhere past the Nile. The sharp blue lens of his headset glinted when he turned his head, lips still drawn in an unreadable line. Then he spoke, and something heavy fell over his eyes.

“Thank you for waiting, Pharaoh.”

The threads of light woven through the Cube were unmistakably enchanted, brilliant and swimming with energy. Beautiful and entrancing, but Atem avoided the sight of it, facing Kaiba and focusing on the well-trained corners of his mouth. He longed to laugh casually, to say  _ Where else was I going to go?  _ But the sounds wouldn’t come, wouldn’t push through his tightening throat and rescue him from the rising grief. Instead he looked away and mumbled, more to the horizon than anyone, “Of course.” 

A nod, seen from his periphery. Atem looked to Kaiba’s eyes and regretted it instantly—blue fire, hotter than the flames of passion but so, so subdued. So raw. The shield completely lowered, the flesh of the soul exposed. 

Kaiba was fighting it too. 

Atem had become less and less aware of his breathing, here in this timeless place; but still his breath caught painfully, and he willed himself to speak. 

“I wanted to duel too.” 

He winced. Cursed himself. Tried again.

“…I wanted to _see_ _you_. I’m glad I got to.”

_ I wanted to say goodbye. _

Another muted nod, but there was nothing dismissive in the weight of his rival’s gaze. 

_ Come with me. _

Atem pinched his lips between his teeth and looked away. When had the sun begun to set?   


“Kaiba—”

“ _ Seto.” _

…When an arrow flies true and fast, it singes and sings in the air, it strikes its target like a perfect, heavy note, a solid  _ thump  _ piercing canvas, hide, and flesh. One word, one name, one intimate admission and gift landed that same, reverberating blow, leaving Atem’s limbs shuddering with emotional echoes. He forced his lips to part, to parrot back that he understood, that he respected and accepted this covenant.

“…Seto.” 

Gods, it wasn’t fair. How dare two small syllables sink into his skin like the heat of the sun, just as it seeps into the distant sands, light leaving him forever? A name he’s said before, but never savored, never held on his tongue like sweetness melting, pooling, burning his chest. Always in anger, always in exasperation and excitement and danger. Never like precious air in breathless lungs. 

“Seto,” he said again, nodding softly. “Right.” 

Something seemed to be swimming in Kaiba’s head, frenetic like a fish with a hook in its lip, scrambling even as it was dragged to the surface. “Pharaoh—”

“ _ Atem.” _

A covenant goes both ways. A name, like a gift, both given and received. A name once lost, a name even he was still getting to know.

Eyes clashed and sparked like flint and steel. There was an unbearable lack of sharpness in Kaiba’s features when he breathed, “Atem.” 

_ Come with me. _

Kaiba inhaled and crossed his arms, the air around him heavily bruised by miasma. “You are…one of the most brilliant and formidable men I will ever know. Besides myself, of course.” He smirked, and Atem had to laugh, heart panging miserably.

The king’s pulse climbed to a painful peak, his chest tweaked with anticipation and dread. He could hear it before it was even said—the finale, the farewell.

The end.

He could hardly bear the beautiful sincerity in those blue eyes, the way that smirk reclined into a small, fine-spun smile that lingered on thin lips. Kaiba spoke so, so  _ softly.  _ So genuinely, even without the fury and fire Atem was used to. It was otherworldly, unreal. All of it. Like one long, disastrously perfect dream, coming to a torturous close.

“I….” Kaiba hesitated, words clicking together carefully, courage manifesting in an unbroken gaze and heat-stained cheeks. “I’ll always cherish our rivalry.” He closed his eyes, drew a deep breath, added quietly, “…And our friendship.” 

He peered at Atem. Squared his shoulders and offered his hand. 

_ Goodbye. _

And Atem  _ broke. _ Slapped Kaiba’s hand away and threw himself forward, forcing Kaiba to catch his weight, arms latched around his neck and feet leaving the sand. A surprised gasp and a slight lurch, the Cube dissolving from sight. Kaiba held him up, strong and secure and unafraid of their sudden closeness, the uncharted intimacy of this new gesture.

He huffed into Atem’s shoulder. 

“You’re heavier than you look.”

Atem let out an overwrought laugh, tearing up at the singular scent of Kaiba’s skin, above his collar and beneath his jaw, so close and warm and  _ alive.  _ Water-cooled metal and freshly-shed sweat. He felt Kaiba’s chest swelling with breath and smiled against his neck.

“Did you just call me fat?”

He felt something small at his back—Kaiba’s thumb stroking gently just below his shoulder blade.

“Palace life will make you soft.” Kaiba bent down to ease Atem to the ground, and while Atem was unwilling to loosen his grip, Kaiba managed to lean back enough to meet his eyes. “I may have to come back regularly to duel you. Keep you on your toes.”

The way his rival was simpering at him…the suggestion that he might come back...it made Atem’s stomach twirl. His hands slid idly down, technical attachments giving way to smooth black elastane and body heat. Kaiba didn’t seem to mind, holding casually to Atem’s upper arms, staying close. Atem had to tip his head back just to look at him. 

_ Maybe I’ll have to come back regularly…. _

What a stunning thought—Kaiba visiting whenever he wished, as if Atem had moved mere cities away, instead of entire worlds. It was intoxicating…and impossible. Even if Kaiba perfected the trip, it would take a dangerous toll. The Cube, much like its distant siblings, was not a trinket to be taken lightly.

Atem’s focus drifted toward the horizon, blood-stained sky and gilded beams of light. A startlingly thick wave of miasma caught his eye. His hands tensed on Kaiba’s chest.

“You have to go,” he whispered, willing himself to face his rival, trying to seem stern instead of devastated.

Kaiba held his gaze and swallowed faintly. He pulled on Atem’s arms, closing up the space between them, bowing just enough to touch foreheads, his headset clinking against the pharaoh’s crown.

_ Come with me. _

Atem winced. “Go, Kaiba.”

_ Before I say yes. _

Blue eyes blinked, looking pained. Atem tried to turn away, only to be held in place by Kaiba’s hands, cupping his neck and lifting his jaw. 

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

Touching Kaiba, in any capacity, was uncharted. A mere brush on the arm or hand proved electrifying. Embracing him the way Atem had—having this extraordinary man in his arms, feeling the pulse in his chest—was heartrending in its affection, familiar in spite of its novelty.

…But to have his head cradled by cool hands, foreign breath upon his lips, impassioned eyes too close to see…. 

To have Kaiba kiss him so boldly was  _ earthshattering. _

Bold, but still so… _ docile. _ Full and steady and slow. Uneventful, perhaps, in the grand scheme of things. Dry lips and crowded noses, a chaste but fearless connection. It was a kiss as warm as it was chilling—as known as it was strange.

And it was brief. Too brief.

Kaiba drew back, and Atem chased him by the lips, only to find them moving softly, speaking in whispers.

“All this time, I thought I was just chasing another victory. Retribution for what you did to me.” 

Atem had to grip Kaiba’s arms to keep him from pulling away, fingers firm and sure beneath the churning miasma, ignoring the way it made his very blood crawl.

“I think that was true, at first,” he continued, “but I couldn’t tell you exactly when or how it changed.” 

Kaiba shook his head, and it was Atem’s turn to take his face in hand, to hold his gaze even as he tried to recede. 

“I couldn’t tell you either,” Atem  admitted. His thumb stole softly across those newly-acquainted lips, curved like a long bow, and drawn just as tight. When Kaiba spoke, Atem continued to stroke his cheek, watching his eyes flick thoughtfully.

“Even so…I thought one final duel would be the closure I needed.” A rueful smile. “The prodigal end to a legendary rivalry.” His eyes flashed back to Atem’s, and the seeping red of the sunset had turned them somber and dark. “…But it didn’t feel like an ending at all. At least, not the ending I was expecting.”

“And what ending were you expecting, Kaiba?” 

_ Come with me. _

“I don’t know.” 

Kaiba rested his hands over Atem’s—and the pharaoh saw that one had disintegrated as far as the knuckles. He didn’t dare look down to assess the damage. He knew it would be extensive by now. 

“I always thought you had something I wanted. A crown, a card, an answer—anything.” The spark returned to Kaiba’s eyes for the first time since their final duel. “I was finally able to face you on the dueling ground. No distractions, nothing at stake but our pride….” He tugged Atem’s hands down and held them, clutched them painfully tight. “I even  _ won.”  _ He winced. “I  _ beat you. Finally.  _ But the passion to fight was still there. I still feel it…like I could win a thousand times and it wouldn’t be enough.” His cheeks were flushed again, and he seemed unable to look anywhere but Atem’s chin. 

“You don’t have the thing I want,” he said fiercely, sounding lost and upset, like he’d exhausted every possible option and hated the result. 

Atem’s heart nearly seized in his chest. He opened his mouth but Kaiba cut him off, staring him down in that fearless way of his, even as the terror flitted visibly across his face. 

“You  _ are _ the thing I want.” The sour smile returned, turning his face cold. “Hell of a time to realize it, huh?”

Something between them shifted dangerously, the last pinch of sand sifting through the glass, the sun dragging its straggler rays over the horizon. Atem was too thunderstruck to react when their hands dropped.

“At least now you know.”

“Kaiba—”

“ _ Seto.” _

A painful heartbeat. 

“Seto….”

_ Come with me. _

The Cube spun itself into existence between Kaiba’s fingers, its sharp, stellar light cutting easily through the dark smog of his dissolution. He sucked in a breath as the simmering blackness crawled up his neck. 

“It’s time.” 

Kaiba tapped his headset, igniting what could be seen of the piping. “You may want to stand back,” he said tightly, and Atem had no choice but to accept the dismissal. 

Every step back was its own war against a wave of urges—to grab him, to stop him, to kiss him, to—

_ Come with me. _

Threads of magic were already expanding in the dusky air as Atem crested a small rise in the sand, eyes lashed stubbornly to his rival’s shrinking form. As safe a distance as Atem was willing to move. He couldn’t bear to retreat any farther—to lose sight of his rival’s  face.

He took a deep breath as the energy pitched and rose, turning Kaiba’s shadowed form into a silhouette of light.

“… _ Seto!” _

A jerk of the chin, a gaze more sensed than seen. 

Atem managed to smile. “If you’re ever in need of a challenge, you know where to find me.”

An answering smirk. A nod. A salute. 

“Goodbye, Pharaoh.”

A pillar of light pierced the earth and sky, sounding with a crack like a thousand strikes of lightning. A blast of air and magic and sand that made Atem flinch and shield his face.

Then…nothing. 

Nothing but the darkness of the night, eyes adjusting to starlight and ears adjusting to an all-swallowing silence. Seto had taken the sun with him.

Atem stood alone in the cold dunes, overlooking the crater where his heart used to be. His last connection to the living world, to an entire life, to friends and newfound family, finally and fully severed. 

He could probably pursue it again, reach with great effort across the divide once more, brushing his rival’s consciousness and luring him back. Him and all the selfish fantasies he promised.

His rival, his friends, his partner….

He could call to them again.

But he wouldn’t. He decided when the second tear slipped off his cheek that life was for the living. He had to let them be. Let them go. As they had him. No more forays into stolen lives, no more running on borrowed time.

They were where they belonged.

And so was he.

It was done.

Atem spared one more thought for the softness in Seto’s eyes. 

“…Goodbye.”


End file.
